Imperfection

By Abigail Thomas

If I were shooting for perfection, I’d never have bought more clay. Luckily I prefer imperfection. It feels more like life. I don’t want to make smooth bodies and muscles that appear where muscles actually are, or tendons, or exactly what you look like when you squat down naked on your haunches. I’m interested in moods. I like catching whoever they are in a moment of becoming or coming undone. Perfection is sort of ho-hum. It is also beyond me. And it is not what the clay...